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Chapter 103: Does Mason have a horn?
🕑 Added 2023-10-09 14:00:04 +0000 UTC[You have conquered a settlement in the name of the Black Tower. Do you wish to claim it as patron?]
Graak accepted the Creator's favor and closed his eyes, feeling himself fill with holy reward.
[Objective complete. Capture a human settlement. Patron points earned. All statistics enhanced.]
[Objective gained: Slaughter the fleeing former inhabitants of settlement ‘Sanctuary’. Reward: additional patron points per human killed.]
[Objective gained: Kill human champion: Mason Nimitz. Reward: lordship of the Black Tower.]
Graak opened his eyes and stared at the words of the Gods, a feeling of shock and fear ripple through his body. He was a practical creature. He had come here to seize the settlement and gain a patronage, and he had accomplished that goal.
His had been the lowest bid amongst the raiders who wished to attack the humans. All the others had expected them to have more defenders, and by being cunning Graak had seized glory with only the loss of twenty-five warriors.
Losing the elder shaman to some damn brain-addled, wild devourer was a blow. He would lose face and reputation for this, and an effective tool in his arsenal, but ultimately the loss was acceptable. Graak was practical. He was not enraged at the terrifying human defender who apparently stood against his force alone. He merely accepted the reality of his existence.
But Graak was also not a fool. When the gods offered such reward for little enough risk, you did not refuse them. A tower lordship? To kill one man? It was worth the sacrifice of every orc under his command. Killing the fleeing citizens was just an added bonus.
“Tuvek,” he growled for his second, and the younger orc moved to his side.
"Yes, patron?" The warrior grinned, and Graak grinned with him but soon let it fade.
"The gods speak. We chase the humans. We punish them for Shaman Teeok’s death. Especially the wizard, and his infernal worm."
He saw the fear in the young orc's eyes, a reflection of the many others whose flesh was charred from the man's spell. "He will be low on mana,” Graak soothed. “I doubt he can use his foul magic again."
The orc nodded, looking at least a little relieved at that. "And what of the worm, chief? How do we lure it out?"
Graak shrugged. The tower orcs were no stranger to the Devourer and its brood. They had pacified the mighty worm with sacrifices for many years, and even trained some of her spawn for battle. But accidents happened. "We will kill it if we can. But worms never attack a group of warriors. The death of Teeok must have been punishment for angering the god of the underworld. Purple is his color."
Young Tuvek nodded as if this made perfect sense. It was well known the elder shaman disrespected some of the gods in favor of others. If the high shamans and lords could use the superstition of the clans, there was no reason Graak could not also.
He turned and shouted to his men. "Nekosh, hold here and keep the settlement. The rest of you, we chase the humans. Tuvek—take your scouts, and the snakes, go up ahead and find the fleeing humans. Capture as many as you can. We may need them to kill my true target. I will follow with the infantry. We march at double speed."
Graak lifted his axe and closed his eyes, breathing the settlement air. With his new patron powers, he activated the speaking stone that thrummed in the earth beneath him, and sent a message to his uncle in the tower.
He had a life favor he had saved through many hardships and been tempted many times to use. But his patience had been rewarded, and now the perfect moment had arrived.
[Uncle—I demand my life favor. I need a raiding party sent West towards the conquered human settlement, then further along the river. They must be mounted, and fast. We hunt men for the gods and great reward. Send them now!]
He ended the one-way communication, knowing his uncle would do as he asked. Few respected the old ways more than Gromsh of the Blacktusk clan.
Perhaps more warriors were not necessary, but Graak saw no greater cause than this. First and foremost, he must live. Already he had a great success, and he could rally many warriors to his cause now with the houses and walls of the settlement. Even if he failed to kill this human champion, if he survived, he had already won.
But he could not deny this singular chance. A tower lordship!
His uncle would send him a raiding party as a favor, and if it succeeded, Graak would be his lord and master. The thought literally brought wetness to his mouth, like the smell of roasting meat on the air.
“Mason Nimitz,” he whispered the strange name, “run if you like. But I, Graak, will find you. I will hunt you down and kill you. And your skull with decorate my new hall in the black tower.”
* * *
“Come on, keep moving!” Carl looked back at the stragglers and clenched and unclenched a fist. “What part of running for our bloody lives do they not understand?” he muttered.
“The entire premise, I suppose,” Silvie said wryly. “These…creatures, they just wanted our settlement, surely? Why would they bother chasing us?”
Carl put a hand through his thinning hair and met his lover’s eyes. He was tired. Bone tired. And he didn’t have the patience or maybe the strength for this—for what they had to do. Best or worst case scenario.
“You want us all to die finding out?” he said without tone or expression.
“We’ll be alright, Carl,” Silvie said, ever the optimist, always trying to be strong. But sometimes you just had to look brutal reality in the face and swallow it.
Carl didn’t currently have the heart. Or the energy. He just waved at the stragglers and walked on, knowing they wouldn’t move any faster unless he behaved with more aggression.
Truth was, after the tears and sadness of leaving Sanctuary, the overall tone of the girls as they marched was now…excitement.
“Do you think they’ll have a lot of men? As young as Mason?” he heard one say behind him.
“Probably!” added some eager voice.
Then it was boy talk for several minutes. Old boyfriends and sexual details he tried desperately to block out. All he could manage was a good glare at Silvie, as if she was somehow responsible.
“They’re twenty year old girls,” she whispered. “They’re just excited to be around people again, new people, somewhere safe.”
“Yeah. Unless we all die first.”
“Do you really think they’re chasing us?” Silvie glanced as if they might be coming now. “That terrifying kid back there is probably slaughtering them all.” She sighed. “Maybe we only have to hide in the woods for a little while? Then we can go back?”
Carl glared as hard as his red, blurry eyes could glare.
“I know, I know,” she said. “We’re not going back. But we did make some wonderful memories there, didn’t we?”
He never could fight her smile. A litany of naked images tried to penetrate the fog in his brain, but he did his best to fight them back.
“And…” Silvie cleared her throat. “That’s where we conceived our child.”
Carl just nodded along for a good few seconds before he blinked.
“What did you say?”
“I can’t be sure. Not like there’s any tests. But, I know what my Mom went through, the sickness, the cravings, the um, urges. And, I think I’m pregnant.”
Carl drifted through the fog, then went through a lot of emotions in a few seconds. He met Silvie’s eyes and smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I know it’s not the best moment,” she said.
He put the memories of a former life away where they belonged. A life mostly misspent with bad decisions, too many drugs and too little responsibility.
“It never is,” he said, then forced fresh energy through his veins from reserves he didn’t know he had. These were his girls, his family, and now a child on the way. He had to get them moving, get them to safety.
“I swear to God,” he shouted, “you hurry it up back there, or I’ll leave you behind!”
Some of the stragglers looked at their shoes like the girls they were, and picked up their feet.
“No you won’t,” whispered Silvie.
“No I won’t,” agreed Carl. “But God damnit. Maybe I should try sicking the wolf on them. What do you say, buddy? Streak?”
The wolf made a curious growl, then licked its lips and quirked its head. Carl slowly dared to pet it, hoping his hand wouldn’t get ripped off. But it quickly stuck out its tongue and turned its ear to be scratched, and Carl and Silvie laughed and soon pet him together as they looked into each other’s eyes.
Maybe she’s right, Carl thought. Maybe everything will be just fine.
Then he heard a horn blow in the distance behind them.
Carl and the girls all turned to look but saw nothing, and Silvie spoke with some panic creeping into her voice.
“Does Mason have a horn?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” said Carl. Still they stared at the river bank and the spare trees that led to their home and the rocky plains, desperate to see something, anything that explained.
Mason came running out of them.
“Oh thank God.” Silvie closed her eyes and clutched Carl’s arm hard enough to leave a mark.
“Mason!” he shouted. “Is everything alright?”
The young hunter yelled something back, but Carl couldn’t make it out at all.
“What’d he say?”
“I think he said…full of stakes?” Silvie squinted.
Rosa spoke up behind them, far too calm for the words: “He said fucking snakes.”
Carl looked again, and what appeared to be two giant, slithering green animals were following their new ally at incredible speed. Mason turned and loosed some arrows at them, then turned back and kept running.
The girls at the back were screaming now.
“Silvie,” Carl’s mouth went dry. “Keep them moving. He’ll need my help.”
He didn’t need to look to know her reaction.
“But what if..”
Carl reached the end of his patience. “For once just do as I say, woman!” he turned to her with more beg than order, and she squeezed his arm.
“Start running!” Silvie ordered, a little steel back in her spine. “I don’t care if you’re tired or sore or scared. Move it, now! And don’t stop until I say!”
Carl expected the command wasn’t actually necessary. As soon as the girls saw the giant snakes they started dropping anything except their packs, eyes glued to the terrain as they tried to run.
He took his moment as he stood and watched. He was already tired, and frankly anything that made Mason run scared the living shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to leave someone else to fight alone for his girls. Not in this world.
“Alright, kid,” he muttered, “I’m coming.” He summoned his Glass Shard and strummed through the list of his powers, trying to prepare his mind. “OK Carl,” he whispered. “Let’s just try not to die.”
Comments
hawkshe .
Graak thinks he's making a calculated gamble, but boy is he bad at math
Pierce Grey
The urge for him to say 'I'm too old for this shit' at every opportunity is almost overwhelming.
Christian Mordal
And Carl was just closing in on retiring.
